Faulty Cognizance
by Epsilon Scorpii
Summary: Post Season 5. Arthur is given a second chance at life in an alternate universe, in which he tries to 'set things right' by relying on his faulty cognizance of how he'd thought he'd handled past sticky situations. Only this time round he has to be the one trying to get Merlin as his servant, and little does he know that 'his' Merlin had followed him there from their old universe...
1. Chapter 1

_Post Season 5. Arthur is given a second chance at life in an alternate universe, in which he learns from his mistakes and tries to 'set things right'. Little does he know that Merlin from his old universe has coincidentally travelled to this dimension, and his faulty cognizance of past sticky situations may lead to disastrous consequences…_

DISCLAIMER: Nahhh not mine yet.

A/N: Written purely for fun. The ending for Season five was somewhat depressing, so writing this helped lighten my spirits somewhat =). It's been sitting on my laptop on ages… so I thought I'd simply share the idea. Have fun!

_**Chapter 1**_

He cracked open his eyelids by a margin, wincing as bright light immediately attacked his eyes viciously with pitch-forks similar to those held by the guards at the Lake of Avalon. Upon reflex he squeezed them shut, but still it burned red against his skin, and he felt warmth build up and finally seep out from the corners of his eyes.

Someone must have been watching him sleep – the thought was not at all reassuring – for the moment he turned for his back to face the offending light, there was a loud clatter and someone, a vaguely familiar voice called out "Sire!" in an almost overjoyed, ecstatic manner. It was as if the King had officiated rules to lift all forms of taxes from the land. He groaned and tried to fold his pillow over his face while simultaneously lying on it.

"Sire! You're awake sire!" the voice cried again.

…and every household was entitled to receiving a carat of gold in gratitude for their loyalty towards the Pendragons' reign over the years.

There was an excited whoop of delight, a clatter, then silence. Arthur groaned and pulled his pillow over his head fully to muffle out the noises – and the horrid light. He didn't want to wake up yet… couldn't Merlin just leave it for today? And why was there no irritatingly cheery 'rise and shine' or an apple hurled in his direction? Where was Guinevere?

He stirred slightly, his befuddled brain jumping through scenes and pictures to focus on recent events, before he suddenly sat bolt upright with an icy feeling in his gut.

It had worked. It had actually worked! All those manure about not fulfilling his destiny and Albion, of meeting the Lady of the Lake, of second chances, of being shoved into a whirlpool to supposedly bring him to another universe… it had _all _happened. Frankly he had expected to end up at the bottom of the lake tasting mud, but now… he was lying in his Chambers, and morning sunlight was pouring through the open windows.

Not the King's Chambers, he noted with a sudden wrench of his heart – which meant he was still a prince in this universe, and that Uther – his father was still alive. His breath jarred in his throat went he remembered the faded ghost of Uther. Back in his mind he could still remember the burning rage in his father's icy tone, '_A servant as a queen; commoners knighted!' You have failed me - …_

Footsteps were steadily approaching as he sat leaning heavily against the headboard, caught in a turmoil of thoughts. Hopefully it would be Merlin (finally) arriving to serve him his morning meal.

" – it is not possible – " he heard a voice say and someone with a head full of white hair and wizened features came into view. Gaius.

He blinked at the physician, barely withholding the smile that threatened to break out on his face – he'd thought he would never see the man again!

Caught up in his own emotions, he never realized that Gaius, too, had stilled, staring at him agape in shock.

"Sire," the physician began slowly, and crossed the room in quick strides to reach his bed. He pressed his hand against his forehead and pulse, before frowning deeply, but there was something else dancing behind the physician's narrowed eyes. "You are well," he said, in some kind of reverence.

Beneath the blankets Arthur's hand sub-consciously jumped to the stab-wound by Mordred what felt like ages ago, but it no longer hurt – it hadn't ever since the Lady of the Lake had healed him. All that was left was an old scar close to his heart.

Why shouldn't he be well? Where was he standing in the timeline? He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a fever – he had always been strong… then it hit him. The Questing Beast! He had been struck by a severe sickness then, hadn't he? That would certainly explain things.

Confident with his deduction, he smiled at the physician. "Of course I would be Gaius," he said, "and as soon as I am fully recovered I shall ride out to fight the beast."

Immediately Gaius' expression changed, the joy dimming slightly to be replaced with suspicion. Arthur however did not notice anything wrong. "…and to fight the Questing Beast I would require energy," he continued. "Now where is that toad of my servant, and why hasn't he served me breakfast?!"

There was a pause when Gaius turned around slowly and exchanged glances with a terrified looking boy hovering at the edge of Arthur's bed. When Arthur's narrowed eyes landed on him, he gave a shocked squeak which sounded like an apology and fled, presumably to the kitchens for breakfast. Arthur gave the foot of his bed a questioning glance, frowning, before looking up to meet Gaius' equally bewildered gaze.

"What was that about?" he asked.

Gaius shook his head slowly, eyes on him. "I have no idea Sire."

* * *

><p>As he slowly followed the events for the rest of the day, Arthur was forced to come to the conclusion that Merlin was not his servant, and was in fact nowhere to be found in Camelot. (Needless to say, the Questing Beast was nowhere in the equation). He didn't dare ask nor mention his former manservant's name though, afraid that Merlin's arrival at Camelot had yet to pass; but the combination of fear to hope blindly and not knowing <em>if <em>Merlin would show up at all made him feel oddly miserable.

He had imagined another chance at life to be great, that he would repair all the flaws and mistakes he'd made the first time round and their lives would be perfect. Yet he'd failed to consider how he wouldn't be able to tell a soul about his real identity, which made him feel detached and separated from the outside world. For all he looked and sounded like Prince Arthur, he wasn't. Back in his world he had ruled as a King for a few years, made crucial decisions, forged alliances and led his men through bloody battles… he wasn't the young spoilt future monarch everyone expected to see anymore. Even his appearance had not changed; he looked older, and the scars that littered his back and chest from all his adventures the first time round were still there, worn proudly on his skin. For that he was grateful, though he hoped it wouldn't raise questions against him in the future.

All in all, it was lonely in Camelot. There was only Leon and Gaius with him, Guinevere was probably still Morgana's servant – he hadn't seen her at all – and the rest of the Knights of the Round Table were of course scattered far and wide outside his kingdom, where they wouldn't meet for several years.

As if things weren't already bad enough, Arthur had been restricted to bed for further 'rest and recuperation' for the rest of the day. Seeing as his supposed fever apparently had been fatal, he did not dare argue even if he was bursting with energy, and lying uselessly in his chambers made him antsy and irritable.

"Arthur, can I come in?" a soft voice sounded on the other side of the door.

Upon hearing the agonizingly familiar voice, he shot out of his chair on pure instinct and tried to control his wavering voice.

"Sure," he said, his voice cracking slightly out of disuse and something else even at the monosyllable.

Morgana appeared at the doorway. He could tell it was her even if he tried not to look at his sister, long ebony hair and light eyes, lips pulled into a concerned frown. He pretended to turn around and walk towards his bed, where he lay down face-first in a childish attempt to avoid looking at Morgana altogether. It was stupid, and he couldn't possibly put this off forever, but he just wasn't ready for this. He was afraid that he would slip-up, that Morgana would read his thoughts and emotions more than anyone else would, that she would be suspicious. Or perhaps he was afraid that this time round he would only find similarities between his sister and the powerful High Priestess that had sought to destroy him and Camelot, dark bitter and bent with revenge. Smiles and sweetness coating her hard edges and second intentions. Waiting and lurking for the chance to stab him in the back.

"…Arthur are you alright? You don't look good, should I call Gaius?" he could hear her worried tone as she approached his bed.

_I will be the moment you leave! _A part of his mind screamed. "Just dizzy," he replied instead, his voice muffled by the pillows. "Don't bother. Why did you come?"

It wasn't very courteous of him to lie face planted in his mattress leaving a lady hovering by his sickbed, but he considered it acceptable for today's sake – he was supposed to be suffering from a grievous ailment anyway. And he was certain Morgana wouldn't complain.

"The King intends to throw a banquet in celebration of your miraculous recovery," she began, even though her tone still suggested concern. "But of course, that would only be after you have recovered sufficiently…"

A banquet? Wow, he really must have been very sick, he thought. It was as if he had been on the verge of dying; he remembered Uther and Morgana rushing in to his Chambers when he was having a very awkward breakfast with Gaius and his apparent-servant scrutinizing him, as if expecting him to keel over any moment. Their overjoyed and disbelieving yet relieved expressions had alarmed him more than he let on though.

"…I was going to ask you if there were any particular entertainers we should invite," she said, "but obviously that can wait until you're stronger – "

Entertainer?

It was as if lightning had struck down on his head and dropped the final missing piece straight on the gap in the puzzle.

"Lady Helen!" Arthur shouted, springing up from his bed with such vigour that Morgana stepped back and crashed into the chair behind her. She stared at him, completely taken aback at his sudden change. Immediately he felt his smile freeze in place.

_Over-enthusiastic! _His mind chided him. _You're supposed to be recovering from a fever that nearly claimed your life last night!_

"Arthur?" she asked hesitantly.

His limbs locked, not daring to move – which was highly inconvenient seeing as his arm was half-supporting his weight in a very awkward position. "Just… saying," he said, rather lamely.

"Are you quite alright?" Morgana said, her voice slightly sharper than before, her frown growing pronounced. "Perhaps I should get – "

"I just got… excited!" Arthur defended himself. "I mean it's opera – and she's famous. Who wouldn't be thrilled?" he said. The muscles holding onto the smile on his face were taut and struggling. '_Me, for instance,' _his mind supplied unhelpfully.

She tried for a smile, but it was evident that she was growing slightly alarmed at his demeanor. "Right, I'll be sure to add Lady Helen to the list," she said with a tight smile. "Get some rest, Arthur."

"Thanks Morgana," he said, taking refuge back under his pillow. It was second-best to a deep dark hole where he could hide and die.

Her features softened visibly at the last bit, even if he wasn't too busy feigning exhaustion to notice. "I'm really glad you're recovering Arthur," she said, before leaving.

* * *

><p>Arthur lay awake, face-planted in cotton, mind racing. His heart was thumping so fast at the sudden revelation that he almost couldn't hear the sound of Morgana's footsteps drawing further away from his chambers. When he at last deemed it was safe enough to do so, he straightened and jumped down from his bed, almost giddy with excitement.<p>

The sooner Lady Helen arrived, the sooner Merlin would, he reasoned. He'd first saw Merlin days before Lady Helen's arrival – which meant Merlin might be arriving anytime soon!

Unconsciously he began to pace up and down the length of his room, brows furrowed deep in thought. The first time they had met, Merlin had been defending another servant; the memory of that particular moving target practice was still etched clearly in his mind. What day had it been? For the life of him he couldn't remember, which made him feel irritated and uneasy. What if he missed the chance? What if Merlin wandered by, and he wasn't in the battlements – and the chance for them to meet was gone forever? He couldn't let it slip by!

With that his resolve hardened; starting tomorrow he would be waiting at his training grounds. If he waited for a week, he was absolutely certain that his lanky no-good servant would turn up.

Then another thought struck him – what was he supposed to do there? If he went on with practice like he usually did, odds were nothing interesting would happen, and – what if Merlin _didn't_ bother to stop by and reprimand him? What if Merlin just walked past him? He couldn't well approach a commoner in front of the other knights could he? And even Arthur _did _approach Merlin, what would he _do?_

Perhaps he would get _Merlin _to carry the target board. The boy was sure to refuse, and he could say something like 'I am the King, Merlin, you do what I tell you to'.

Except that it wouldn't work, because he wasn't the King.

He stopped by his chair and rapped his knuckles against the desk in frustration. What to do?

Then another thought struck him. Better yet, he could change Merlin's first impression of him! Perhaps he could impress Merlin enough for the boy to stop and watch him defeat an opponent in an honorable sword-fight.

Nah, Merlin wouldn't care less about fights, no matter how impressive they actually were. And besides it wouldn't give him an opportunity to talk to Merlin, unless Merlin singled him out to congratulate him… in which the moon would sooner turn bright green and fall from the sky like a ball of cheese.

Whatever, he would be sure to come out with something when the time came. Besides, they were _bound _to meet some time – how many times had he been lectured on the 'two sides of the same coin' prophecy-destiny thing?

With that thought in mind, Arthur grabbed his coat and made to exit his chambers. If he couldn't do any sort of physical training yet, perhaps his father would allow him to go on a ride.

* * *

><p>For the rest of the week, Arthur had stubbornly insisted he was well, and started skulking around the training fields.<p>

Gaius had expressly forbidden him to wield a sword or engage in any form of fight, so he was left feeling very much out of his own element as he stood by the sides and watched his knights compete to prove their best. It was better than idling around his chambers anyway, he felt horribly restless whenever he was faced with the sheer _nothingness _and lack of activities his day provided him. Morgana's frequent visits didn't help much, though he was getting better at replying whatever she said while looking at her – sideways – in the eye. She might have suspected something, but on the whole she kept quiet about it and didn't voice her thoughts.

On the fifth day of his return to life, Arthur began his training routine once more; nothing too rigorous (even though inwardly he was simply itching for a bloody fight) because Gaius and Morgana would have his head if he did. Speaking of which, he suspected they were having many discussions about him, but he decidedly ignored them on the whole.

Still Merlin didn't appear for one whole week of his efforts, and by the second Monday he was growing agitated and cross. Why was _he _the one skulking the training fields in the hopes of catching his _servant? _It didn't make the least sense. He was acting disturbingly like a maiden trying to catch the eye of a knight, and the similarity in the comparison made him want to retch.

Even so he continued his routine, assuring himself that it was what he used to do anyway. Even if he never used to pay half as much attention to the passing peasants as much as he did now.

It wasn't until Thursday morning, when even the knights were beginning to note his sour mood, when he finally thought of something – as far as he knew, _Mary Collins had yet to make an appearance. _It struck him with the severity of a goblet whacked into the side of his head; how could he not have remembered that bit?He wasn't supporting an execution of another innocent's life, but without the death of Thomas Collins, there would be no impersonation of Lady Helen… the events right from when Merlin first stepped into Camelot would be altered. And what was the _point _of knowing the future if the past would just proceed to head in a completely different direction? That would be like riding a horse that refused to be controlled.

On impulse he whirled around to face his fellow knight – which happened to be Sir Leon. Excellent. He motioned for the man to step outside the training fields to the sides, where there were targets set up in preparation for their knife-throwing practice after lunch.

"Sire?" Leon enquired when they reached the edge of the field.

Arthur looked up. "Have there been any executions recently?" he asked, voice low.

Leon looked at him. If he was taken aback by the sudden question, he didn't show it. "The last one I believe was a few days before your recovery Sire," the knight replied, "he was executed for practising sorcery."

"He wouldn't happen to be a Thomas Collins would he?" Arthur said at once, almost not daring to hope.

"I think that is his name Sire," Leon said neutrally. Arthur could tell he was becoming more and more confused as to where this conversation was headed to, but was still withholding his questions.

"And his mother spoke out against my father's ways?" Arthur persisted, the bubble of excitement in him growing. "The guards failed to seize her? And she promised revenge?"

Leon's suspicion was bordering on alarm at the smile that was threatening to blossom over Arthur's features. "Yes sire," he said a tad warily.

Arthur's insides soared with triumph.

"Excellent," he exclaimed, before he caught himself. "I meant that sarcastically of course," he added hurriedly.

Leon gave a strained smile. "Of course sire."

Gaius would be having another visitor tonight.

**A/N: Yep, it's purely humor/friendship. It won't be a retelling of the season though, there will be quite a few different decisions the characters will make. Hope you liked it! Tell me what you think? =)**


	2. Chapter 2

_Faulty Cognizance_

Post Season 5. Arthur is given a second chance at life in an alternate universe, in which he learns from his mistakes and tries to 'set things right'. Little does he know that Merlin from his old universe has coincidentally travelled to this dimension, and his faulty cognizance of past sticky situations may lead to disastrous consequences…

DISCLAIMER: I disclaim!

_**Chapter 2:**_

_Few days later…_

"Sire, Lady Helen will arrive sometime this evening and the King wishes you to be present when they dine."

Arthur who had been brooding silently by the window, turned around to look at his current manservant that had spoken. "_Tonight?" _Arthur repeated, almost disbelieving.

"Yes sire," the boy replied, shifting uncomfortably under his scrutiny. "Hence the King says you are forbidden to go hunting, sire, and… for your health reasons also." The next part was said uncertainly, as though expecting Arthur to blow up. Indeed the prince had been extremely sensitive about his health issue and threatened anyone who dared suggest he was anything less than healthy and fit.

Arthur stood up decisively to head towards the door. "If he is restricting me from hunting, then I shall train," Arthur said stubbornly. "Prepare my throwing knives."

The boy bowed and scurried out of his chambers to do his bidding, leaving Arthur to his thoughts.

Where was Merlin? It had been little over a week since he'd been transported into this universe. And yet no plot to overthrow Camelot had occurred, and any attempt on his life was yet to take place. It would have been almost nice but for the fact that Arthur was bored out of his mind, and a little anxious too. He was counting on everything happening exactly how they did the first time round. But already things seemed to be going out of hand – first the mysterious illness, and he suspected more and more people were visiting Gaius to subtly enquire about his mental health. He knew because he'd been making up all sorts of excuses ranging from mild headaches to nausea to visit the court physician and see if his former manservant had moved in.

And of course, there was the great big problem of Merlin not appearing.

What if this time round Merlin didn't become his manservant? What if Merlin took up an apprenticeship with Gaius – or at tool-making or something?

He had to get to Merlin first! They had met when Arthur was having moving target practice, he remembered. And Lady Helen was arriving that very evening. If Merlin was going to show up at all, today would definitely be the day.

And so, ten minutes later found Arthur holding a display of knives, standing a few yards away from the target practice board, tapping his chin and thinking. If his knights were wondering what on earth was taking the legendary Prince Arthur so long to throw a knife at a huge stationary target, they didn't comment.

His eyes kept darting up the streets, wandering, before landing on a young boy who looked suspiciously like George.

Should he have the boy carry the target practice board?

Granted once upon a time he wouldn't have thought twice about it, but back in his world he'd already been _king. _And he'd sworn an oath to himself to respect his subjects as much as they did him – (Merlin didn't count). Though, ironically, it had been Merlin who'd inspired this promise. _A king serves his people just as his people serves him. _He wasn't a king now, wouldn't be for many years to come. But he had been one, still _was _one at heart, and a king would not act in such a lowly manner, abusing the authority he held over the palace servants. It wasn't much, carrying a target practice board – he knew he would never miss, and the boy would be terrified for futile reasons. But it was just the simple fact that he _knew _Merlin wouldn't approve.

Which, of course, led him back to square one - it was essentially how they'd first met. Should he recreate the circumstances in which they had their first meeting?

Distractedly Arthur weighed the knife in his hands and briefly took aim. And it was right at that moment, in his peripheral vision – he saw a tall, lanky raven-haired boy stop at the edge of the training field, watching.

He let loose the knife, ignoring the solid _thunk _of wood when the knife embedded straight in the middle of the circle, bull's eye. The knights cheered, and the little crowd that had gathered at the edge of the field to watch him train clapped loudly, seeming excited. And _Merlin was standing right there._

Arthur barely held back his grin of delight - it wasn't like the knights could tell the reason anyway. He was right, he was right!

Merlin had actually appeared! He knew it was bound to happen sometime or other, but having it actually happen was a different thing altogether. He chanced another glance at the sides. It was Merlin alright – he would recognize the other anywhere. Same mop of raven black hair, the silly neckerchief and a neat bundle on his shoulders. He was standing amongst a few other citizens who were clapping, and with a jolt Arthur realized Merlin was actually staring straight at him. He had always been able to tell when someone's gaze was trained on him, and of course Merlin was the king of subtlety. The other was too far away for him to make out his expression though.

Then a small boy Arthur could not recognize tugged lightly on Merlin's sleeve, causing the other to look down. Arthur saw them exchange a few words - and Merlin began to _leave. _

Leave! When they hadn't met properly yet!

Arthur's mind froze, almost a little panicky by then. Merlin was supposed to confront him. Merlin was supposed to call him a prat when he introduced himself as the prince of Camelot. They were supposed to have a fight, and Merlin was supposed to be thrown in the stocks, and they would have a fight in the marketplace the next day – where he'd promised himself to look out for Merlin's tricks seeing as he now knew the other had magic – and oh crumbs, he'd lost sight of Merlin.

He stared dumbly at the small crowd that had come to watch him practice. Most of them were young boys who fancied themselves becoming knights in shining armours someday. It was also probably due to the fact that he'd rarely frequented the training grounds ever since his mysterious illness and the people needed the reassurance that he was indeed well and healthy.

_Not that Merlin cared_, he thought a little bitterly. His former manservant had all but disappeared.

Then again, why should he have? They weren't friends in this universe, not yet. It didn't matter much, he told himself. When Merlin became his manservant again he would order and threaten and taunt him and Merlin would give him the same witty responses, make up nonsensical words to describe his ego and snipe back silly retorts. This Merlin and the Merlin he already knew were after all, essentially the same person. It didn't really matter.

He spared a smile to the crowd and turned to face his knights.

"Who's up for some sparring?"

* * *

><p>Night fell quickly over Camelot, blanketing the city in darkness save the small specks of fire that glinted by the villagers' windows. The sky was starry, the autumn breeze was cooling and the view was exactly how he'd remembered it, no longer strange nor foreign – but warm and almost homely.<p>

Merlin stood leaning out of the window, watching.

He felt hopeful, yet at the same time there was an immeasurable amount of sadness and nostalgia for _his _Camelot. Or more accurately hisArthur. He'd been there as the prince became a king and friend to him, changed and steered him to be the good man he knew he was – and now he had to do everything all over again. In a moment's ignorance he'd lost a friend, lost the future. And because of that he'd thrown every last fragment of his past world away to step into this universe to find that friend again.

But in his desperation he'd conveniently forgotten the simple fact that Arthur wasn't the man he was. And Merlin himself wasn't the same naïve boy who'd first stepped into Camelot either. He'd grown so much, in experiences and magic – and so had Arthur. In the course of both of their journeys, they'd changed each other, Arthur more so than him.

He couldn't recreate the friendship they had, it simply wasn't possible. One's relationships was determined by the memories made together. Even if all this played out exactly as they had been, Merlin would still be facing Arthur while holding memories of a past that was soon to become the future of this world. How could he even act the same, feel the same, _be_ the same when so much had shifted?

Even Arthur wasn't quite like the one he'd first met in his old universe. Merlin frowned as he recalled Arthur throwing knives at the surprise, surprise – stationary target. He supposed there wasn't to be a fight in the marketplace the next morning.

He sighed. At least he had saving Arthur's life to look forwards to. Then he would become Arthur's manservant, and perhaps things would return to _some _semblance of normalcy then. Arthur was still as much as a prat as he had been when he last saw his friend, and putting up with Arthur was one of the best things he knew how to do.

If only things remained that simple.

Merlin began to feel something was amiss when he lay awake on bed for hours on end, and yet the dragon's voice could not be heard. He tossed and turned, he looked out of the window thrice and slid off the loose floorboard to find the book of magic Gaius had given him. He flipped through the pages, not really seeing them, still waiting and waiting. Then he finally gave up.

If he travelled into this universe, replacing the original Merlin that had been here, would that mean his dragonlord powers would be diminished as well? Balinore in this world was still alive, but his real father was dead. He scrabbled in his mind in a clumsy attempt to find his link to the dragon, but all he found was emptiness and silence. Did that mean he was not a dragonlord anymore?

Once more he imagined the picture of a fiery dragon before him and focused on the link that tied him to the dragon's minds. _"O drakon," _he whispered in the night, then fell silent.

There was no rumble, no voice, no reply, just inundating quietness. Merlin sat back against the wall, mind reeling. His dragonlord powers were still intact, he could still speak in dragon's tongue. But Kilgarrah could not hear him any longer, assuming the dragon was still there. There wasn't even a link left between them.

What had happened to the dragon?

**A/N: Thanks so much for your reviews! :) Here's a quick but short chappie. Tell me what you think!**


	3. Chapter 3

_Faulty Cognizance_

Post Season 5. Arthur is given a second chance at life in an alternate universe, in which he learns from his mistakes and tries to 'set things right'. Little does he know that Merlin from his old universe has coincidentally travelled to this dimension, and his faulty cognizance of past sticky situations may lead to disastrous consequences…

**Thank you so much for your amazing reviews! Here's the next chapter in thanks! :)**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter 3: <strong>_

The boy stood in front of him, eyes blinking and disbelieving. "You wish to _skip training_, sire?"

It had only been a few days before that Uther had finally granted his son permission to pick up his training once more, and only because Gaius had finally declared Arthur to be hale. Since then the prince had eagerly taken up the training sessions, sparring his knights to his heart's content. And now, on the third day of his release from 'confinement' as he called it, Prince Arthur wanted to be excused from training.

"You heard me," Arthur said shortly. "I'm having a stroll in the market."

The boy looked as if he would very much like to repeat "_the market?!" _in the same incredulous tone, but wisely refrained from doing so. He bowed with a 'yes sire' and quickly walked out of the chambers, laundry in hand.

Arthur smiled to himself and got up. There probably wouldn't be a fight between him and Merlin – even if part of him was actually disappointed by the fact – but odds were he would meet his manservant all the same. His former and soon-to-be manservant.

So he dressed, had breakfast and took Sir Rynelf and Sir Cain with him. They were supposed to be taking a 'leisurely stroll', but Arthur seemed to have a certain place in mind as he headed determinedly through the narrow streets and packed stalls. He was pretty certain that Merlin would be at the herbs store, buying some ingredients for Gaius.

There was a long queue at the herbs stall, and despite the crowd Arthur could tell Merlin's figure right away, standing second in line. He approached slowly, a grin slipping past his notice onto his face. A few people turned around to see him, only to back away giving him a wide berth. Arthur frowned, mildly distracted. He'd forgotten how it had been to be feared, not revered or respected by his people.

Merlin looked over to see the commotion, and instantly their eyes met. There was something like recognition in Merlin's eyes, and Arthur felt pleased.

"Well well, what do we have here?" Arthur began, with what he hoped to be an intimidating smile on his face.

Merlin favoured him with a strange look, one that always managed to make him doubt himself even though he'd never showed it. "A customer at the herbs store," Merlin retorted in a completely neutral voice. "How interesting."

The long queue of customers was staring at them.

Arthur's mouth twitched in annoyance. He was supposed to steer things back to how they had started in the original timeline, and typically _Merlin _would stand in the way.

Then he remembered a convenient line which would fit the circumstance.

"You can't address me like that," he began.

Merlin blinked, looking confused for a moment. "Um, how interesting… sire?"

Arthur actually stood there for a moment, wondering what was he supposed to say to that. Merlin knew who he was already? But Merlin was supposed to call him a prat before he said 'you can't address me like that!'. And for starters he wasn't even supposed to approach Merlin at the herbs store anyway.

They were supposed to meet someway upfront by the vegetable store. Then Arthur would taunt him and Merlin would attempt to walk away before facing him.

But that wouldn't have made much sense because they hadn't confronted each other yesterday and -

"Screw it!" Arthur fumed angrily.

Merlin tilted his head to look at him, still favouring him with the '_you seem very strange'_ look Arthur was beginning to despise. "Are you alright sire?"

_No! I am most definitely NOT alright! You are obstructing my mission to ensure the future of Albion!_

Even the knights behind him were growing agitated and more than a little concerned. They were shifting uncertainly in the background, trying to ignore the stares Prince Arthur's strange behavior was drawing.

"No," Arthur said finally. "I mean, yes. Leave me!"

He then proceeded to stalk off the way he came. The crowd stared after him, not dispersing.

"Well, I suppose he's done that on his own," Merlin commented, tied between confusion and amusement. The rumours must have been true then; Arthur's mental health was clearly running downhill ever since the illness. He really had to look up some spells to fix that; much as it was amusing, he did not want the people to start doubting their ruler's sanity.

He turned back to the stall and added a few more choice herbs to the list.

* * *

><p>Arthur was in a foul mood the entire day.<p>

Everyone in the castle was giving him strange looks by now. Well, almost everyone. Even he _himself _found his own actions strange. It was all Merlin's fault. Why didn't he say the proper line?!

But what was the proper line? It wasn't like they were in a play. He couldn't expect the future to roll out just as he expected and knew it should be. The Lady of the Lake had warned him – destiny was not written in stone, neither was the future, so he supposed things were liable to turn out a littledifferently. But to Arthur the difference was not little anymore. It was huge, important and crucial. The basis of his and Merlin's relationship was completely wrong!

And the people probably thought that their crown prince had gone insane. Arthur groaned and put his head in his hands. He had approached Merlin specifically at the herbs store with no particular purpose! The other was probably completely bewildered. What if Merlin thought he was not quite right in the head as well?

He returned to the training grounds in midday to spar to his heart's content, hoping the adrenaline would wash away any lingering doubts and cringe-worthy thoughts in his mind. The sun beat down on his back ferociously, and since it was too hot to wear any armour he only used a sword. Leon was kind enough to volunteer to be his partner after his patrols, so they faced off each other, dueling each other until both were too tired to continue any longer.

"There seems to be a lot on your mind recently, sire," Leon ventured as they headed indoors. Even though it was said in a light-hearted manner Arthur did not miss the undercurrent of worry in his tone.

"There is," he replied honestly. "A lot seemed to have happened when I was… ill. I am still adjusting."

Leon nodded. He opened his mouth to say something, but in the end he settled for a nod. "Of course sire."

"Sire!" a voice called at the same moment. Arthur looked up just in time to see his servant all but nearly run into him in his haste to reach the prince. "Sire, Lady Helen has just arrived. She is being escorted to the castle as we speak."

For an indiscernibly odd reason – considering he was aware of the murder attempt on his life that was soon to follow the next night – Arthur felt relieved. At least something was finally happening as it should be.

* * *

><p>Merlin lay back in his bed after dinner, rifling slowly through the magic book.<p>

For the first time since he could remember, he actually had a lot of free time on his hands.

The dragon wasn't here to prophesize his destiny, Arthur couldn't boss him around because he wasn't his servant yet, which left him with only Gaius' errands. While he had complained ceaselessly about never having the day off, now Merlin couldn't help but feel a trifle _bored. _He felt appalled at the thought that he could only feel entertained when there was a life-threatening circumstance round the corner, but still. He wasn't used to 'sitting around doing nothing' as Gaius had put it. And Gaius… sometimes, he found himself wishing desperately for the physician he knew, the one who mentored him, encouraged him and been the only father figure he had in his life. He'd thrown that away too, coming to this universe. All because of a friend he'd already lost.

"Merlin!"

Almost grateful for the distraction, Merlin stowed away the magic book in its usual hiding place and descended the stairs. "Yes?"

"I want you to deliver this to Lady Helen," Gaius informed him, taking out a vial of yellow liquid and handing it over to him. Merlin stiffened at the last name, but the physician didn't notice. "It's for her voice. She's performing in the banquet tomorrow night."

"Lady Helen?" Merlin repeated. She had already arrived, and was already in Camelot? His flashed back quickly, trying to call up the details. With a jolt, he suddenly remembered his first encounter with 'Lady Helen'. The servant girl in her quarters – she might already be dead.

He'd reached Camelot later than he was supposed to this time round.

"Prince Arthur specifically requested for her to perform at the banquet," Gaius continued, turning to look at him.

"Alright I'll be back," Merlin said, grabbing the potion hastily and exiting the chambers. If Gaius questioned his sudden vigour he'd make up some excuse about being a fan of opera.

He'd never even seen an opera in Ealdor though. Of course, that was beside the point.

He fled down the corridor as quickly as he could, feet pounding almost too loud in the silent hallways. Most servants and nobles alike had retired for the day. At least he wouldn't need to worry about crashing into other people in his haste to reach his destination. He might still be able to save the girl!

He darted up the stairs he'd frequented so many times in his years in Camelot, finally rounded the corner – and promptly crashed into someone.

"_Ouch!" _a voice said.

"Sorry!" Merlin gasped, before noticing who it was. Arthur. Uh-oh.

"_Merlin!" _Arthur snapped, but Merlin had darted off in a streak. The blood roaring in his ears made him deaf to everything else. "Sorry sire, no time!" he called over his shoulder. To his benefit the prince didn't give chase, but stood there working his jaw as if he wanted to say something.

He arrived at the guest chambers completely out of breath. The corridors were silent. All too silent. Either the servant girl had yet to arrive, or it was already too late –

The doors were open.

Heart in his mouth, Merlin pushed it wider and went inside. This time his eyes only lingered briefly on the wooden box with what he now recognized as rune markings left on the table, before darting to the floor. He was already too late. The body of the servant girl was sprawled almost hidden beneath the table, her mouth still opened in a hideous scream. He stepped back, shock and repulse running through him. It was the darkest magic of its kind, voodoo. He'd been a novice at magic then, but now – knowing what actually entailed, the consequences of it – ran a new kind of disgust and horror in his blood.

"What are you doing?" a cold, clear voice demanded at the doorway.

Merlin whipped around and raised his eyes to face Lady Helen, returning from her feast with the king. He held up the phial, hoping his hands wouldn't shake as he did so.

"The court physician sends his compliments," he managed to say. "It's for your voice, for your performance tomorrow evening."

The woman looked at the offered vial for a moment before taking it. "Give him my thanks," she said, but her voice was hard, so was her expression. Merlin felt chills running up his spine even though he already knew what he was up against.

He nodded and left quickly, not looking back. Behind him, the reflection of the twisted face of an old woman watched his back as he did.

**A/N: I look forwards to see your reactions to this chapter! It's slightly longer than the last, and this was particularly fun to write XP . Drop a review please?**


	4. Chapter 4

_Faulty Cognizance_

Post Season 5. Arthur is given a second chance at life in an alternate universe, in which he learns from his mistakes and tries to 'set things right'. Little does he know that Merlin from his old universe has coincidentally travelled to this dimension, and his faulty cognizance of past sticky situations may lead to disastrous consequences…

DISCLAIMER: I'll tell you when I have luck alright?

**Thanks a million for your awesome reviews! I hope you had as much fun as I did writing this. Enjoy :)**

_**Chapter 4: **_

Arthur made a resolute vow _not _to go looking for Merlin anymore. Neither was he going to meet his former manservant until the other was hired. Honestly it was inviting trouble. Because of his useless ex-servant he'd been regarded as a total loony by the general population. And because of _Merlin _he'd well and truly busted up the timeline.

It had come so naturally when Merlin crashed into him near the stairs, that he'd shouted the other's name without hesitation.

Without remembering _he was not supposed to know Merlin's name. _

Luckily the other seemed distracted enough not to notice, but it was too close a call. He had no excuse of knowing who Merlin was, after all. He had only arrived in Camelot for a day, they were never introduced, and Gaius never mentioned Merlin to him yet.

The timeline was going to veer off in a dangerous track if he did not fix things right, and soon.

Hence, with the future at stake, Arthur rapidly promised himself to avoid Merlin at all costs for the next day.

Much to Arthur's surprise, that was easily managed. Usually Merlin was always around to do the chores, stoke the fire, bring him meals, accompany him on trips, prepare his horse, sword and so forth, but all of these were replaced by a much more efficient, if he were to say so, servant. He had yet to remember the boy's name, something beginning with Jacquers – and unintentionally his mind had dubbed the boy 'George' because they were similar in many ways.

Morgana however posed a greater problem. They'd barely met over the week – only at mealtimes in which Arthur rarely made any effort to strike any sort of conversation with her. He'd gotten better and responding as though nothing was wrong, but he could tell by her narrowed eyes that she was beginning to suspect him of avoiding her.

He had really tried to make things right between them, but in his heart he knew it was almost impossible. He'd begun to second-guess her every move and intention instinctually, and while a part of him thought it wasn't fair of him, a larger part of him wondered if he was making the right decision by keeping their distance. Who knew, perhaps Morgana was already harbouring dark thoughts to kill him and Uther as she sat across them innocently picking at grapes. Back in his old world, he had never even suspected she'd changed after all, not until he'd witnessed her taking the throne beside Morgause.

Morgause was definitely an issue to be resolved soon, though. He wasn't quite sure when she would appear, but perhaps if she was prevented from coming into Camelot at all in the first place, Morgana would never get the chance to meet her half-sister, and their alliance would never form. Perhaps Morgana could be persuaded to have a change of heart.

And well, his father was another problem. It was then when Arthur abruptly realized that _everyone _seemed to be a problem, which led him to draw the conclusion that _he _himself was the root cause of everything. He'd never thought facing alternate forms of them would be quite so difficult. Where he'd always known his place with his father, now their relationship was strained. Uther probably never realized, but Arthur felt a large gaping rift between them, expanding like an abyss with each passing day. Each day he had to hold his tongue and be forced to agree with whatever decision Uther came up with instead of taking charge himself. Servants had virtually no standing even as witnesses in court, and sons of nobles whose standards at sword-fighting were about on par with _Merlin _stood greater chances of being knighted than actual skilled swordsmen.

The peasants and town-folk who saw him walking down the streets didn't bow or curtsey or hail him with happy joyful faces, they darted quickly out of the way while trying to avoid catching his eye altogether. At first Arthur was willing to believe that it was because of his 'terminal illness' that might have been contagious, but then he'd been cured for almost a fortnight.

All in all it was a frustrating life Arthur led in the place he used to call his home. The only few times in which he felt like himself was when he sparred Sir Leon in the evenings, which he was eternally grateful for. He couldn't wait for Merlin to become his servant already. At least he would have _someone _to torment without having the need to feel bad about it, and he could trust Merlin to entertain him in any time of the day. If was going to be miserable, so did Merlin, he decided.

And so it was with great anticipation that the evening for Lady Helen's performance finally arrived, and Arthur found himself sitting at the head of the table on his father's right hand at the banquet. The hall was buzzing with people, including nobles and lords journeying from neighbouring lands to witness his miraculous recovery. Arthur smiled tightly and sat facing the front, even though his eyes kept darting once in a while to the shadows seeking someone in particular. With a jolt Arthur recognized Gwen standing behind a pillar carrying a pitcher of wine, laughing at something her companion said. It was a strange sight to behold; Arthur had become a little too used to seeing a regal Queen of Guinevere. He'd almost forgotten how she'd been like when she had been a servant girl. Her smile was as sweet as kind as ever, like he remembered; and for a moment Arthur allowed himself to watch her quietly, feeling a little less lonely than he had been for weeks.

The pleasant chatter that filled the hall slowly died away, and Uther began to rise from his chair. Suddenly Arthur abruptly realized he'd forgotten to look for Merlin. He didn't even know if his manservant was there yet. Merlin had better not be late! Arthur had an important mission to carry out; the future of Albion was at stake here.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Merlin stepped out of the shadows, and Arthur mentally berated himself for being so blind. The person Gwen had been talking to had been Merlin, and he'd never even realized because he'd been too distracted. Arthur felt his heartbeat regain more of its normal pace at the sight of his soon-to-be manservant. Things would be going as they should be, he assured himself.

Beside him, Uther raised his hands for silence – even if it was by all means completely unnecessary. The guests had fallen quiet the moment their king had risen to his feet, and all eyes were watching Uther expectantly. "Tonight," Uther began in a powerful voice, "we gather here today to celebrate the miraculous recovery of my son, Prince Arthur, who until a fortnight ago suffered from what all believed to be a fatal ailment."

The hall broke into genuine applause and cheers, and Arthur nodded politely from his seat even though he was anxious for the aria to begin already. Lady Helen was probably waiting behind the screen by now, anticipating her moment to strike…

"…my son here is an avid fan of opera," Uther continued. Arthur had to resist the urge to face-palm as surprised gazes turned towards him. His eyes darted up to meet Merlin's before he could help it, and he could tell the other's expression even by the distance between them. Merlin gave a rather loud snort before stumbling hurriedly backwards into the shadows. Gwen swatted his arm as he did. Arthur gritted his teeth and looked to the front again.

"Hence he has invited a most talented singer to perform for us tonight," Uther continued with a smile, completely oblivious to his son's stony face. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I present you – Lady Helen."

Applause rang across the hall, and almost immediately a haunting melody trilled from behind the screens. Arthur sat up straighter in his seat, his smile grim. It had finally begun.

Lady Helen glided into full view of the guests, her beautiful voice echoing and reverberating against the high walls. Arthur watched the guests opposite him sink under Lady Helen's charming voice, and their reverential gazes turned dewy-eyed. It wasn't only until Arthur felt a foreboding sense of calm and sleepiness wash over him that he remembered with a start the effect of the Lady Helen's spell. The melody had been cursed!

In his white flash of panic upon this newfound insight, Arthur instinctually turned around to look at Merlin, just as the candles that lit the hall were extinguished in a poof by a wave of Lady Helen's hand. Thankfully Arthur knew just exactly where his to-be manservant was standing and caught sight of Merlin pretty easily. Merlin had both hands snapped over his large ears, and he seemed to be watching Lady Helen intently as if searching the opportunity to break the spell. So that explained things, Arthur thought. Of all people, only Merlin had been sensible enough to do so.

Beside him, Arthur felt more than saw Uther keel over in a magical slumber, and cobwebs crawled like bizarre wisps of white smoke up the long table, weaving themselves around the sleeping guests' heads.

Lady Helen's gaze was fixed unwaveringly on Arthur as she advanced, her voice climbing to higher pitches and notes until Arthur felt like he couldn't bear it anymore. He pretended to slump down beside his father, though he tried to block out the music by stuffing his ear up against his shoulder. He didn't have much luck, but the adrenaline of high anticipation was pulsing within him, enabling him to fight the spell temporarily.

"Woo-ahhhh!" Lady Helen screamed the final note. Arthur peeked through the crack of his eyelids and saw Lady Helen raise the dagger.

This was it! The crucial moment he'd been waiting for -

_CRASH!_

Arthur, who had been slumped to the point his head was nearly on par with the table, nearly slid off his seat.

The grand chandelier that hung above where Lady Helen stood hurled downwards by the force of gravity, metal chains inches thick snapping abruptly as they were sliced clean. The melody choked off to horrible scream, followed by morbid silence. Arthur felt his heart leap to his mouth.

He hadn't been conscious the first time round, and come to think of it no one really questioned the impeccable timing of the falling chandelier – but this time he knew the answer. Merlin.

Beside him his father slowly began to stir, and all around the hall the guests began to wake one by one. Arthur feigned blinking his eyes slowly even though he had been wide awake the whole time. Merlin's name was still spinning around his head. He felt numb; _this _had been the first time Merlin had saved his life using magic. Not this Merlin, the Merlin he'd left in another universe. And – and for so many years he'd never really known –

"Arrgh!" a fury-filled cry escaped the lips of the woman pinned beneath the chandelier. She was no longer the beautiful Lady Helen as Arthur had known all along, she had wispy matted grey hair with features twisted in ugly malice. As if in slow motion, Arthur watched as Mary Collins raised the silver dagger she still held in her fist and hurled it directly at him with all her remaining strength.

Arthur watched the dagger spin in the air, filtering light flashing off the deadly blade. He saw it hurtle through the air with deadly precision. He could almost hear it whistle in his ear. And before he quite knew he was doing, Arthur's instincts took over, and he did the worst possible thing he could have possibly done.

Arthur dodged the dagger.

The blade sliced through the air and embedded itself in the back of his chair, its hilt quivering upon its powerful impact with wood. Arthur heard the terrible 'thunk' as it struck the space beside his head, harmlessly. Everyone in the hall gave a collective gasp, before wilting in relief when they saw that Mary Collins had missed her target. The witch's life seemed to drain out of her body at her final attempt, and she slumped forwards on the ground, dead.

Uther startled out of his chair and turned to look at his side, shock and relief mingling in his expression as he reached for his son almost shakily.

"Arthur my son," he began, "are you alright?"

Arthur could only stare, utterly horrified at his mistake.

**A/N: I've been waiting to write this scene ever since the idea for the story popped up in my head XP. Hope you liked it! Review? ;p**

**Oh and for those curious: I haven't been planning how exactly this will go, I started it purely for fun and to relieve my depression over S05 ending XD but I can say it won't be a retelling of the series. Nope I've got twists waiting ahead :D**


	5. Chapter 5

DISCLAIMER: I am beginning to think of this section as redundant... surely BBC wouldn't even bother to sue if I claimed copyright to Merlin, mainly 'cause no one would believe me. That's sad isn't it?

**Wow thank you so much you amazing people! I've read all your fantastic reviews for a grand total of three times! XD I especially enjoyed writing the front part of this chapter. Hope you enjoy it as much! **

_**Chapter 5:**_

He had dodged the dagger.

_He had dodged the bloody dagger._

"You dodged the bloody dagger!" out of nowhere, Merlin's voice said, sounding just as horrified as he was.

Arthur looked up. Merlin was standing right before him, presumably to push him out of the way of the blade. As he should have, and probably _would _have, if Arthur hadn't taken things into his own hands.

Uther was looking at Merlin with something akin to suspicion, his eyes darting between his son and the unknown servant who had seemingly popped out of nowhere. Arthur swallowed. Uther turned to face Merlin even though he was clearly distracted by his son's close-call with death. When his posture was clearly demanding an explanation of Merlin's sudden approach to their table, Merlin hurriedly bowed in his normal awkward manner.

"Um, sorry sire – your majesty – I was _going_ to push Art – I mean Prince Arthur out of the way of the dagger," he explained, his eyes darting uncertainly to meet Arthur's.

"Well you could have done that a bit sooner!" Arthur shot back before he could help himself.

Merlin looked indignant enough to glare back at him and retort something equally scathing, but Uther was standing in between them. The king gave Arthur a strange look, before turning around to face the servant.

"Your – efforts – " Uther stressed the word, " – are appreciated, but it was only thanks to my son's reflexes that his life was saved."

Merlin bobbed his head in another clumsy bow, ignoring Arthur's gaze altogether. "Yes of course sire – thank goodness for his _great reflexes, _of course he didn't need any saving!" Here there was a very strange laugh. Arthur felt like cringing at the sound. Merlin cleared his throat. "I'll just be – leaving – "

The boy disappeared quickly into the shadows. Arthur keeled forwards and thumped his head against solid wood with a loud 'thunk'.

He had botched up the future. He had irrevocably damaged the timeline. He had royally completely screwed things up.

But then he remembered the dagger hurtling towards him at great speed, and a felt a flare of annoyance bubble up in his chest. What had Merlin been doing anyway? Arthur had dodged the blade at the last possible moment! If he hadn't, he would probably have been dead by now, and so much for his grand plans to 'change the future' and building Albion. Imagine the utter humiliation if the great King Arthur was resurrected and given a second chance at life only to die by the first murder attempt he encountered.

The annoyance soon died as quickly as it came though, and Arthur felt himself sigh wearily. Perhaps he'd dodged the incoming blade a little too quickly, leaving Merlin with no time to act. Or perhaps he'd dodged _before _Merlin could act. Merlin had probably halted his efforts when he saw that Arthur needed 'no saving' as he put it. After all, how many times had he underestimated his manservant, and look at what happened in the end! Merlin had as good as single-handedly won the battle over the Saxons, yet he claimed no credit and went gallivanting after Arthur. Even until now, Arthur had never managed to really come to terms with the fact that Merlin was supposed to be greatest sorcerer the world had ever known. It didn't make any sense.

Arthur snorted. Then again he was supposed to be the 'greatest king the world has ever known' and look what happened to him in his old world. He died the moment Albion actually had the chance to be built.

"Arthur? Arthur – "

He looked up and gave his father's concerned look a grimace in response. "I'm fine really," he said. He couldn't remember the last time he'd brushed off his father's concern – Uther being genuinely worried about anyone in general was a rare occurrence – but for the first time Arthur felt like he couldn't care less. "I was just rather – " Arthur racked his brains for an appropriate excuse. " – devastated at such a tragic end of a highly anticipated performance."

Barely had the words left his lips did Arthur wish he'd stuck back to the feeble maiden-in-distress-excuse of being 'overwhelmed by the turn of events'. Uther looked rather surprised, but then he let out a chuckle and slapped his arm. "You never let me down," he said.

Arthur nodded, feeling rather confused, before Uther had to leave his seat to reassure the guests. Arthur groaned and slipped back into his chair, almost forgetting the dagger sticking out from the back. Angrily he wrenched the blade out of the wood and held it in his hands. He barely resisted the urge to fling it across the temper in a fit of tantrum – but of course that wouldn't be an appropriate manner for a prince to behave. Especially when there were guests milling around the hall, most whom were still shocked by the disastrous banquet.

Arthur contented himself by squeezing the hilt in his palm hard. It was then when he noticed the perfect balance of the dagger, and the faint bluish tint of the silvery blade in the limited light. He paused and held it up in his hand, examining it closely. Something cold passed over his spine, and he resisted the urge to shiver. The hilt was fashioned out of the best wood, smooth and light.

Unless he was gravely mistaken, Arthur could have sworn it was the dagger he would be holding a few years into the future, showing it off to Merlin as he proudly prepared his present for Morgana's birthday.

* * *

><p>Merlin trudged back to Gaius' chambers dejectedly.<p>

He had failed. He wasn't going to become Arthur's manservant, not anytime soon. Arthur had no need of him to save his life this time round, and the thought saddened Merlin more than he cared to admit. He had assumed everything would go accordingly, he'd taken his knowledge of the future for granted, and now things were veering off into a path he had no control upon.

Merlin felt like screaming. Why, why _WHY _did Arthur decide to wake up at that moment? It hadn't happened the first time round! Or had he not acted quick enough? Admittedly he _had _paused in his tracks, but that was only because when Merlin had slowed time, Arthur had already veered out of the way of the dagger, and it would have made no sense whatsoever to push Arthur over anyway.

How was he supposed to subtly save Arthur's life every time if he wasn't Arthur's manservant? How was he going to change Arthur to be a better man, the king he knew he would become?

He needed to be in constant contact with the prince, and the only people Arthur communicated with on a daily basis were his father, Morgana perhaps, his knights, and of course his current manservant. Merlin felt himself grit his teeth in frustration. There was no way he could pass as a knight; his skills at sword-fighting were amateur at best, he was far from fit enough, he had no noble heritage and Arthur might just recognize him anyway. If he wanted to get close to Arthur, the only position available to him was indeed – as Arthur's manservant. Which position he had just missed his chance at.

"Why the long face Merlin?" Gaius' voice asked him as Merlin dragged his feet miserably across the physician's chambers.

Merlin turned around and opened his mouth. He was seized with the sudden urge to tell Gaius everything, but he remembered that this Gaius did not know anything of Merlin's destiny to protect Arthur; in fact Gaius knew virtually nothing about Merlin at all, save he had magic and was Hunith's son. Merlin felt his heart sink and swallowed back the words he was going to say. "I was looking forwards to Lady Helen's performance a lot, that's all," he replied.

Gaius' response was to raise a white eyebrow, and Merlin had to steel himself to look into Gaius' eyes to convince the man of the truth.

"At the banquet Merlin, I saw you attempt to save Prince Arthur's life," Gaius said. The physician's voice was neutral, but then he broke into a small smile. "While he managed to dodge the blade on his own, you were very brave to try."

Merlin gave Gaius a strained smile. The word 'attempt' kept buzzing around his head like an irksome fly and Merlin thought he was quite possibly coming to the end of his patience.

"I'm going to turn in," Merlin said quickly. "Goodnight Gaius."

He slipped up to his room and closed the door behind him, then leaned back against the wood and groaned.

* * *

><p>Jacquersferguson, Arthur's – unfortunately – current manservant, stood nervously at the doorway as he watched the prince continue to pace the length of the chambers distractedly. It certainly looked like his master was trying to wear a hole in the floorboards. Despite having just tidied the rooms before Prince Arthur left for the banquet, now the prince's royal chambers were a complete mess. Clothes were strewn all over the floor as usual, the fire poker was lying discarded on the floor after Arthur had set it down in agitation and most of all there was an array of long knives and daggers scattered all over the tabletop. Jacquers swallowed as he noted the long ugly welt dug into wood, where Arthur had stabbed Lady Helen's dagger into the table.<p>

After a long, almost painful silence in which Arthur seemingly failed to notice his presence in the doorway, Jacquers finally mustered up the courage and knocked softly on the door.

"S-Sire?" he squeaked.

Arthur paused in mid-step and turned around to face him. The prince was holding a particularly long knife in his hand, causing Jacquers to stiffen.

"Yes George what is it?" Arthur said, not lowering the weapon.

In his terrified state of mind, Jacquers did not even notice the wrong name. "I-Is there a-anything else you want d-done s-s-sire?" he stammered fretfully.

"No, you're free to go," Arthur replied, waving his free hand distractedly.

The boy did not need telling twice, he darted out of the room and into the corridors before Arthur could call him back, forgetting even to bow. Not that Arthur cared. There were much more pressing things on his mind.

Arthur strode back to his bed where he flopped down and stared hard at the canopy above him. Worry and guilt were churning in the back of his mind, and memories from both his past and the present twisted themselves into a tangled web until Arthur found it difficult to differentiate both clearly. Arthur had held onto the Lady Helen's dagger just in case history decided to repeat itself and the dagger would fall into Morgana's hands again. From the moment he returned to his room, he'd tried distracting himself by judging the balance of the blade and comparing its distinctiveness with his own set of knives, but he ended up stabbing the dagger into the table in his frustration.

Were things going to be same at all? He'd shifted the future slightly the moment he arrived in this world with prior knowledge of the future, he knew. But in a moment of carelessness and utter stupidity, he had just managed to change the course of the future. He tried to imagine the next few years without Merlin as his manservant, and the hollow feeling only intensified.

He wondered if he would one day manage to be the king 'his' Merlin had envisioned him to be without Merlin's counsel. What if he would be forced to build Albion without Merlin by his side this time round? Arthur gritted his teeth in frustration. First there was an Albion without its king back in his universe, now there was to be an Albion without the help of the 'world's most powerful warlock'. It wouldn't be Albion if there wasn't the both of them!

He didn't think the Lady of the Lake would take kindly to the idea of sending him into a third universe to start over again though. In any case he would probably die of embarrassment before it would actually occur.

For a brief moment Arthur entertained the idea of riding out to find the Lake of Avalon on his own. Not to ask for a chance to wreck another universe, obviously; but perhaps he would be able to talk to the Lady of the Lake, and perchance magic could bring him to his old universe. It needn't even be long. He didn't even need to enter. Maybe Merlin would be sitting by the lake awaiting his return, and Arthur would see him again.

He would ask him why did he pretend to be a hapless servant and wait on Arthur's beck-and-call when he held such power. He would to ask him how he managed to stand by and watch Uther and himself persecute magic-users and yet stay loyal and faithful to Arthur. He wanted to know just how many things he'd done to save Arthur's life and nobody knew about it – and why he came to Camelot – and – how was he coping now?

Arthur abruptly sat upright on his bed. There was no way he would be doing this without Merlin, his counterpart or otherwise. He had a mission in this universe and he owed it to Merlin who had risked so much for him. Better yet, Arthur now knew a way to salvage this damage. He'd accidentally shifted the future, but he could attempt to change it back, starting with getting Merlin back as his manservant. Talking to anyone else wouldn't help.

The Merlin from his world, or the Merlin here didn't matter. He knew his former manservant all too well, and that was the key point of his success. He was certain he could pull it off. A grin slipped onto Arthur's face as he considered his plan. If this didn't work, nothing would!

Excited at his brilliant idea, Arthur sprang out of bed and left his chambers. He had the execution of his grand plans to prepare...

**A/N: I'm reaally looking forwards to write chapter six, again it's one of the scenes I've been wanting to write since the start. I know the latter part of this chapter was more focused on Arthur's thoughts, but seeing as he'd just died and left his best friend in another universe, I figured sometimes I should stray a little little bit from the light-heartedness in order for things to be realistic. Even though light-heartedness is the spirit in which this was written X) **

**Bad news, is that I've run out of pre-written chapters, as evidenced by this slightly later update. Oops. I'm still trying here though!**

**Liked it? What did you think? Tell, tell! :D**


	6. Chapter 6

DISCLAIMER: Okay okay I'll continue to disclaim!

**Wow thank you so much for your awesome reviews! They really made my day. Here's the next chapter in thanks - hope you enjoy!**

_**Chapter 6**_

"Arthur is going to _what?" _Merlin's incredulous voice said loudly.

Gaius gave a disapproving frown before replying. "_Prince _Arthur is going to hold a contest to choose a new manservant. And seeing as you have been sitting around all day doing nothing from the day you set foot in Camelot, I do think it is worth a try. A position in the royal household is not to be taken lightly." He paused, looking Merlin up and down critically before looking as if he would like to retract that statement.

Merlin swallowed back the urge to roll his eyes at the last bit. "Why on earth would he do something like that?" Merlin asked instead.

Gaius gave a non-committal shrug. "Perhaps he tired of his old manservant," he suggested.

Merlin continued to look at Gaius, completely dumbfounded. "Tell me honestly that you don't find something the _least _bit strange about this," Merlin told the court physician. He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Why is he behaving like that?"

"It is not up to me to decide if his behavior is – " Gaius paused and shot him a severe look. "Have you been eavesdropping, Merlin?"

"It wasn't completely on purpose, I swear!" Merlin exclaimed at Gaius' expression. "I was already there when Jacquers walked in. And besides it wasn't like it was the first time, by the rate of his visits I would have sooner or later heard one of – " Merlin paused slightly in apprehension and swallowed. Gaius prompted him with a raised eyebrow. " – the many conversations."

Gaius looked very much as if he would like to clobber Merlin over his head with his basket, but opted to shove it into Merlin's hands instead. "Well instead of taking ages to get water without bringing a bucket, you might as well make yourself useful. I have a whole list of herbs supplies that needs to be replenished."

And that was how Merlin found himself walking through the lower town which was already filled with bustling people, clutching a huge basket to his chest, scowling. Over the past few days since his arrival in Camelot, Merlin had been witness to many of Gaius' visitors, and more often than not they involved people concerned about Arthur's mental health. At first it had all been rather amusing, but after Jacquers' (Arthur's _current _manservant, Merlin thought disdainfully) third visit to Gaius in the span of a week, Merlin began to get quite worried.

However seeing as he had nothing whatsoever to do with the prince, Merlin was not privy to Arthur's 'condition' whatever it may be. In fact Jacquers had specifically requested Merlin be out of the vicinity when he relayed his master's health problems as, quoting him, '_his royal highness' health condition must be kept private from outsiders'. _Merlin had protested at that but in the end was forced to comply. Which was terribly insulting since he was one of the people in Camelot that could claim to know Arthur the best. And now he was branded as an 'outsider'!

Of course, that didn't stop him from listening in the keyhole. Apparently Arthur was 'constantly distracted' and muttered a lot more to himself, behaved very much 'different'... and yesterday night he'd suddenly developed an obsession with his array of knives.

Merlin sighed. It was as he'd feared; it was completely out of his boundaries to help Arthur. But then again there was this sudden 'who-wants-to-be-Arthur-Pendragon's-manservant-contest' and if Merlin wanted his old position back at all he was going to have to try. It irked him to think that he would be competing against a whole lot of other bootlickers that would humbly grovel at their master's feet all day though. And by taking part willingly he would be admitting submission to the prince before they even knew each other properly, which would change the basis of their relationship completely. Not to mention he would have to play the part of a perfectly humble servant if he wanted to stand any chance of being hired by this current egoistic Arthur. It was a miserable thought to say the least.

There was a longer queue than usual when Merlin passed by the herbs store. At first he'd been distracted enough by his thoughts not to notice, but after a few moments Merlin could feel a slight tension in the air. There were harsh and quick whispers darting between the queue of customers, fearful and worried. Letting his curiousity take the better of him, Merlin edged closer into the crowd.

"What's going on?" he asked a lady in the throng of people. "Why are there so many people around here?"

The lady gave him a worried glance. "There's a fever spreading," she told him in a low voice. "Many people have been struck ill by the disease – they've been really sick! Mora's selling the cure at a very high price, but we aren't sure if it'll really work…"

At her words, Merlin nearly crashed straight into the person before him and dropped his basket. The plague! The plague! Why hadn't he thought of that?!

The woman nodded understandingly at Merlin's reaction. "It was a real shock for us as well," she said sadly.

Merlin didn't reply. His mind was buzzing at hundred miles per hour. It must have been the egg Nimueh planted! The time was about right. It was a magical ailment that couldn't be fought with herbs alone. Mora was probably lying about the cure, unless she was using magic right under the king's nose.

Completely forgetting about Gaius' herbs – and unaware that the court physician was currently heading his way right at that moment by the king's orders to treat the ill – Merlin ran back in the direction he'd come from. He had to find and destroy the afanc!

* * *

><p>Arthur shot out of his chair. "It's the plague!" he shouted.<p>

Morgana eyed him with a mixture of concern and suspicion. "Gaius is looking into it as we speak, Arthur," she said in a soothing sort of voice, "I know you're worried about the people but pacing a hole in the floor won't help anything."

"Well, it helps me think," Arthur muttered stubbornly. He continued his stride to the other end of the room before he abruptly stopped short as if he'd been struck on the head. Morgana who was about to retort something paused and eyed him uncertainly.

"Arthur?"

The prince turned around wearing the exact same expression as he did when he'd shouted Lady Helen's name. Morgana half-expected Arthur to burst out a completely random fact (like he was a fan of opera) and smile inanely again, but this time he did neither. Instead Arthur slapped his hands together loudly in a sharp resounding _clap._

"And what is it now?" Morgana said warily.

Arthur's hand darted to his side, reaching for an invisible sword before he cursed loudly. Morgana stared at him, appalled. "_Arthur,_" she began, but he was beyond listening.

"My sword, I need my sword!" he muttered to himself, louder this time, before hastening towards the doorway.

"To defeat the plague," Morgana said drily, but Arthur ignored her completely. He didn't even bother to excuse himself; the only person left in the hall was Morgana, where Uther had already left to attend to council matters.

"George!" Arthur hollered once he was out in the corridor. "_George!"_

He could have sworn he'd seen his manservant standing outside just now, but when Arthur scanned the corridor quickly but there was no one in sight. Arthur growled to himself. If it had been Merlin, Merlin would have been standing at the sides in the hall while the villagers came to seek his father's help. But seeing as George was clearly terrified of Uther himself, Arthur had decided to be nice for once and allow his manservant to go free on the condition he had lunch ready and on time. And look where his niceness had ended him up. He was in an emergency and he didn't have his sword with him!

Giving up any hope of finding his servant, Arthur turned and fled down the corridor, heading rapidly towards the armoury himself. There was no time left, he had an afanc to defeat! Before more villagers fell prey to the plague, before _Gwen's father _fell to the plague. Or perhaps he was already affected. Arthur had no way of knowing.

Ten minutes later found Arthur emerging from the castle, running in full-pelt with his sword holster bouncing awkwardly against his hip. It was a mark of how his knights were beginning to get used to his 'strangeness' that he wasn't confronted by any of them, not even Sir Leon.

It didn't occur to Arthur that the afanc had been a creature of borne of magic, and that stabbing it with a mortal sword probably wouldn't work. After all how many times had he managed to achieve the impossible with his sword anyway?

Only that this time the blade he was wielding was not Excalibur, and Merlin wasn't running after him.

Arthur arrived panting and out-of-breath in the underground tunnels without any problems. Either the villagers were too occupied with the plague or they thought it wise to stay clear of his path while he was running at full speed while carrying a sword. In any case he was immensely thankful. He didn't think he could get away with explaining the need of slaying a magical beast contaminating the water supply before more people would be convinced of the need to see Gaius regarding Arthur's mental health.

In the aftermath of his burst of exertion, and in his paranoia, Arthur imagined the tunnels to be extra quiet. There was the faint drip-drip of water droplets, but aside from that everything was deafeningly silent. Arthur walked on ahead, careful to mask the crunch of gravel beneath his feet as he did. He tried navigating the tunnels in the dark; he'd chosen to forgo any light source in order to catch the monster while it was unaware. (Which of course, if he had bothered to remember, was possibly the stupidest thing to do while fighting an afanc.)

Arthur thought hard and furious as he continued his journey deeper and deeper into tunnels to find the monster. Where had they encountered the afanc the first time round?

It had been so many years ago, when Merlin had only just entered his service, that Arthur found it difficult to dredge up the details. He had a vague impression that Morgana had been on that particular excursion too. But the memory only left a lingering sour and bitter aftertaste in his mouth, so Arthur pushed away the image and focused on trying to locate the monster. It was only then when Arthur suddenly remembered something. Had he actually defeated the afanc using the sword, or had there been something about fire…?

Or worse still, Arthur's heart gave a jolt – had it been _Merlin _again?!

Almost right at that instant, suddenly Arthur heard the loud scuffling of feet. He could hear the vivid thumping sound of someone running gracelessly into the underground tunnels. It reverberated loudly and echoed off the low ceilings. Arthur quickly hid himself in a darker corner as he drew his sword slowly so as not to draw attention to himself. Perhaps this time round he would be able to apprehend the sorcerer who planted the afanc in the water supply in the first place!

He tensed as the blade was finally free of its sheath, held it poised and upright and patiently waited round the corner. The footsteps were drawing louder and clearer to where he was. It wouldn't be long now…

X

Merlin ran so hard his heart was beating almost painfully in his ribcage. Each breath and pant was coming up in short bursts; and he may have torn a stitch or two in his side. Not that it mattered now. He had to stop the plague from spreading! Even now, there might be villagers drinking the poisoned water. With a lurch of his heart Merlin remembered Gwen sobbing uncontrollably over the body of her father, and he willed himself to run faster towards his destination.

Even as his brain was mostly occupied by panic and adrenaline, Merlin found himself feeling very much confused. Yes, some things from the original timeline had occurred – take for example Lady Helen, but what of the knight with the snake shield? What was his name – Rillian? Villain? Had Uther cancelled the tournament because Arthur had been recovering from the 'terminal illness'?

And _why on earth did Arthur have to dodge the bloody dagger! _Merlin cursed to himself, still sour over that fact. He was supposed to hunt the afanc together with Arthur.

Well, he supposed with the prince's absence it would make his job to destroy the creature way easier, as he wouldn't need to hide his abilities, but still. The basis of his relationship with Arthur would be vastly different from what it had been if he kept this up. Not that he was masochistic or anything, but they wouldn't have been half as close without all those adventures and close-calls with death.

When Merlin finally arrived at the underground tunnels leading to Camelot's water supply, it was with mild surprise that he noted the abrupt lack of light as he entered descended the flight of uneven stairs. When he reached the landing Merlin grabbed a torch by the wall and cast it alight with a passing thought. His eyes flared gold and immediately the torch caught fire, dispelling the gloom in the tunnels significantly. Merlin allowed himself a small smile before he walked on.

Almost as if on cue, at the instant he took a step forwards, Merlin heard a small whisper of noise. Immediately he stiffened, trying to gauge its direction.

It was the monster, he was sure of it! Nothing else save the monster lived in the tunnels, after all. Steeling himself, Merlin closed his eyes and concentrated on his magic. There! A life source round the corner!

From then on, he had a single thought in mind. He was going to destroy the afanc and put an end to the plague.

Adrenaline mounting in high anticipation, Merlin decided to edge closer to his target. He was going to kill the monster. He stretched his arms outwards in anticipation of battle. He walked half a step forwards. Magic was tingling in his fingers. This was it! He was prepared. He was going to kill the monster – _and something pounced_.

"AGHH!" Merlin yelled before he could help himself as he brandished the fire wildly in the _thing_'s direction, but no avail. In the next moment his arm had been caught in a lock and the torch slipped free from his fingers. It tumbled to the floor and nearly burnt his boots in the process. He raised his other hand – which was still holding Gaius' basket – to defend himself, but something metallic and sharp and definitely _not _an afanc was pressed threateningly against his throat.

Merlin tensed immediately at the dangerous blade held to his neck, before his eyes widened as he recognized that the 'thing' was human. Or more importantly - _who_ it was.

"_You!" _Merlin cried indignantly before he could help himself. "What on earth are you doing here, I could have killed you!"

Arthur, for Arthur it was, actually stepped back, completely dumbstruck. He was looking at Merlin as if he'd sprouted a grand total of three heads. There was an awkward pause of disbelieving silence.

"Right!" Arthur finally managed, his tone high and bordering on utter incredulousness. He slowly lowered his blade so that it wasn't pressed against Merlin's Adam's apple. Merlin's eyes darted to meet his for a moment, before Merlin cleared his throat and lowered the basket he had been holding up in a flimsy attempt to defend himself.

Arthur was wearing the look as if he were barely restraining the urge to slap him, which was immensely confusing given that they had met under such unexpected circumstances. Merlin had to look away to prevent Arthur from noticing him panicking internally.

_Why was Arthur here, why was Arthur here!_ Or worse still: What on earth was he going _to say?!_

Arthur, as per usual, was the first to break the terrible silence.

"What – the – hell are you doing here?!" he demanded of Merlin.

Merlin swallowed and waved the basket in front of him feebly.

"I was – uh - getting water," Merlin replied with a forced smile. "You know what they say, the water's only fresh from the direct source, and seeing as Gaius always likes fresh things, fresh food, fresh herbs, fresh people – I figured he would appreciate fresh water as well," he rambled in a rush. Arthur's eyebrow only rose higher.

"You were getting water with… a _basket_," Arthur said slowly, enunciating the last word.

Merlin pursed his lips. "Well I've been told it works better than a sword," he retorted before wisely keeping his mouth shut.

"Don't be _stupid _obviously I wasn't getting water!" Arthur snapped. It looked very much like he was going to say more, but at that moment a new voice was heard echoing through the tunnels. To Merlin's mounting horror, it wasn't a completely foreign voice either. In fact -

"_Merlin! _What on earth are you doing here?"

Merlin whirled around. "_Gaius?" _he said stupidly, still numb with shock.

This had definitely not happened the first time round! What was happening here?! He hadn't completely messed up the timeline had he?

Completely oblivious to the fact that the prince was mirroring his exact thoughts an arm's length from where he stood, Merlin turned around to face the court physician, all the while cringing mentally in his head. He was so going to be in deep, deep trouble.

"I thought I sent you to pick herbs!" Gaius voice continued in an outraged tone, and Merlin saw Sir Leon come into view, holding a blazing torch high above their heads.

Gaius continued to advance. "I was pretty sure that herbs are found in the _other _direction. Honestly Merlin, there's a rash fever spreading around quickly and – " This time, he stopped short when he saw Arthur, standing there looking just as lost as Merlin was. "Sire?" Gaius said hesitantly.

Merlin felt himself blanch. "It wasn't the plague?" he said weakly.

**A/N: So I didn't get to write the part I'd been planning for this chapter in chapter 6, but I liked the idea of this scene too much to give it up. Hope you liked it! Tell me what you think? :)**


	7. Chapter 7

DISCLAIMER: Yeah, disclaiming...

_Thank you so much for your amazing reviews! You are really an inspiration. It's a great pleasure writing for you all. Hope you enjoy this!_

**Chapter 7: **

Three pairs of eyes turned to stare at him, Arthur's among them holding the most astonishment.

Merlin immediately felt like slapping himself.

_Of course not, genius! Didn't Gaius just say it was rash fever?! _

In a conscious effort to prevent more awkward questions, Merlin tore his gaze away from the court physician and cast his eyes wildly around him for a distraction. His eyes immediately landed on Arthur who was for some reason looking immensely confused, and Merlin seized the opportunity at once.

"Well then what are you doing here?" he said to Arthur, his tone almost accusing. Both Leon and Gaius turned to look at him in a mixture of horror and reproach. Merlin winced mentally. "Sire?" he added.

Arthur opened his mouth as if to say something, before closing it and gave him an infuriating arrogant smile. "I have no need to explain myself to a servant."

Merlin felt himself bristle in annoyance. "I'm not a servant," he shot back before Gaius could stop him.

"I think you do at least owe me and explanation Merlin," the court physician interrupted them before things could escalate any further. He fixed Merlin with a severe look. "What do you think you are doing here?"

"Well – " Merlin stopped. His mind was speeding rapidly through multiple stories to spin up, and he could feel his ideas dry and shrivel one by one under the pressuring stares from all directions. He was horrible at lying.

But then he _had_ gotten slightly better at telling lies under pressure after the many years he'd served under the prince. Especially when he was left to explaining disastrous episodes to Uther alone while Arthur was off gallivanting with a lady or some kind.

Those ladies in mention were mostly magical folk trying to enchant and kill Arthur though. Not that _that _was relevant now –

"I thought I saw Art – I mean, Prince Arthur enter the tunnels, alone" Merlin said abruptly.

Arthur raised his head and shot him an incredulous look. Merlin ignored him pointedly.

Gaius' patience was clearly burning short. "And pray tell what inspired you to run after him?"

"You mentioned a plague, I believe," this time it was Sir Leon who spoke up. He sounded almost curious. Merlin resisted the urge to face-palm. He looked at Arthur in a manner almost apologetic.

Well, here goes, he steeled himself for the murder attempt that was about to come.

"I thought Prince Arthur might, possibly, be suffering from the – er – _aftereffects _of the plague that almost took his life a fortnight ago, so I followed him here to make sure _everything _was _all - right,_" he garbled in a rush.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Arthur's hand reach for the hilt of his sword. Merlin winced. He steadfastly avoided looking at the prince at all. Not that it really helped matters.

"What do you mean by _aftereffects_?" Arthur's voice said murderously.

Merlin scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Well – " he chanced a look at Gaius who pursed his lips in a thin line, then at Sir Leon who hurriedly looked away in a manner that could be described as guilty. Merlin cleared his throat for the second time in the span of the last few minutes.

"Obviously no one is to blame sire," he began quickly, "in fact I wouldn't say _anyone _is at fault, the plague after all was a grave and dangerous business and of course sometimes slight nasty repercussions come with – "

"I – am – _not – mad!" _Arthur as good as shouted.

For a moment Merlin's expression froze. Gaius looked as if he was wishing he'd never set foot in the tunnels; while Sir Leon was looking very tempted to dive into the pool of water and disappear. Then -

"Yeah well then, that's excellent news sire!" Merlin exclaimed loudly with a bright grin, as if it all explained things.

Arthur couldn't help it. He reached forwards and gave Merlin a hard slap to the side of his head.

"Ow!"

Merlin rubbed his head ruefully but Gaius effectively silenced him with a severe look. Sir Leon seemed as if he couldn't make up his mind whether to be amused, confused, or apologetic for doubting his prince's state of mind. Merlin chanced a quick half-hopeful look at the prince and noted that Arthur's free hand was still resting dangerously on the hilt of his sword. He wasn't saying anything else yet though. Merlin began to back away slightly.

"Well it seems to me that you all planned to meet here in these tunnels for some – special – important business, which is no concern of mine," Merlin rattled off as he inched towards the entrance, which also happened to be the only exit. Thankfully they weren't deep into the tunnels just yet, and Merlin reached the bottom of the steps successfully in no time. Merlin finally plucked up the courage to address the prince while looking at him sideways. "Sorry about the misunderstanding sire. I'll be sure to help change the course of the rumours – "

"MERLIN!" Arthur hollered, but Merlin was not staying. Far from it.

" – so I'll best be going. The herbs. Are important," Merlin paused, holding his breath as three pairs of eyes stared at him with varying degrees of bewilderment and in Arthur's case – murderous intent. He dropped the hand he had been unconsciously holding up in a gesture of peace. "Bye!"

And Merlin fled up the steps as fast as he could, Gaius' basket still dangling faithfully from his hand.

* * *

><p>XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX<p>

For the first time in the few weeks he'd returned to life, Arthur was looking forwards to returning to his chambers. He would stagger in, slam shut the door and bury himself deep in his bed until he would forget the embarrassing disaster of the last hour.

But as if things hadn't turned out bad enough, the moment he stepped into his rooms, Morgana was already sitting by the table - and by the looks of it she had been waiting for his return for quite some time. Arthur gave her a sideway glance and decided that ignoring her completely was probably one of the worst options. Indeed as if sensing his thoughts, her frown grew more pronounced as Morgana turned to look at him.

Arthur sighed mentally and made a huge effort to smile by pulling his lips into an upward curve. Sadly, if he'd seen himself, the facial expression could only be described as a grimace.

"Morgana!" Arthur began in what he assumed to be a pleasantly surprised tone. "What are you doing in my chambers?"

Note: that was definitely something he would like to know.

Morgana however gave no indication to having heard his question. Instead her eyes travelled to the sword holster hanging by his side. "What were you doing?" she asked in a neutral tone.

"Training," Arthur informed her immediately. "Sparring my knights. I figured it would be something more productive than say – taking ages to brush my hair." There! He'd subtly thrown in an insult. Hopefully Morgana would take the hint and leave.

But obviously things weren't going to be that simple.

"You started shouting things about a plague and muttering about your sword before leaving the hall abruptly - just to spar your knights," Morgana said, tilting her head upwards to look at him in the eye. "If you wanted to lie, Arthur, at least consider my intelligence before coming up with a better one!"

Arthur shrugged. "I have no reason to report my every move to you Morgana," he retorted, keeping his tone completely calm and neutral. "And the last I recall you've never been interested in any of my daily activities unless they concern you, of course."

Morgana quirked an eyebrow upwards at the last bit. "Perceptive, aren't you?" she said with a small smile as she got up and walked round towards him. It wasn't an entirely friendly smile either. Arthur's fingers twitched slightly for his sword as she advanced, but he controlled himself with visible effort.

In a few strides, they came face-to-face in the middle of the room. With some trepidation Arthur noted Morgana was holding his gaze with a determined glint in her eyes. He couldn't look away without betraying his guilt, so Arthur stood his ground and raised an eyebrow back in defense.

Morgana folded her arms across her chest in response. "You've been avoiding me," she said in a deadpan sort of voice.

Arthur felt an incoming headache blossom. _Oh fabulous, _he thought, _ it just __had__ to be today didn't it?_ Of course, Arthur knew his frequent excuses about training and jumping at every chance to brush off his sister hadn't gone unnoticed, but he was hoping that he would be able to stall for some time. At least, until he'd thought of an appropriate excuse… or when he could finally face Morgana without getting jumpy or suspicious. The former was more likely though. As it was, Arthur was caught red-handed and unprepared.

He opened his mouth, but once more Morgana beat him to it. "I hope you take into consideration what I just said before answering," Morgana continued, her gaze burning holes in his skull. "I would hate to destroy a friendship so long over something as trivial as this."

Arthur rolled his eyes before he could help himself. "Girls," he muttered. Morgana's gaze sharpened. Arthur sighed. "You're being overly sensitive Morgana," he said by way of answer. "Look, why would I be avoiding you?" he said.

He tried to hold a straight face as Morgana looked at him again, and he thought he could read a slight hope in her eyes. He willed himself to stay calm, hoping that for once his sister wouldn't be able to read him like she always could, but the light in her eyes dimmed and shuttered abruptly and Morgana's voice, for once, grew angry.

"For one who speaks highly of honor and bravery, you're spouting a lot of lies Arthur Pendragon," Morgana said through gritted teeth. "You accuse me of being overly sensitive, and yet you are the one that has been avoiding me for the past fortnight!" she paused, her gaze only growing in their intensity – "sometimes, I question if you really are the Prince Arthur you claim to be, because for all you act and behave ever since you recovered from that _sickness_ – I doubt that."

Arthur felt himself freeze.

This was bad. This was worse than he initially expected. Barely a few weeks into his mission, and he'd encountered a major catastrophe!

No, of all people he couldn't let Morgana be the first to find out. She would only use it against him. He must not let her discover his true identity! He'd rather _Merlin_ found out about his true identity. But what could he _say_?

_A half-truth, _a voice spoke unbidden in his mind. It sounded suspiciously like Merlin's, especially when he was wearing his 'sometimes-I-display-wisdom' kind of face. _Anyway i__t's not like it's considered as lying! Well, not technically._

Arthur smiled internally to himself. Of course! He knew what he could say to placate Morgana.

"Yes yes of course," Arthur said out loud accidentally.

Morgana's anger instantly bordered on suspicion and alarm.

Arthur as usual never realized. He had regained slight confidence in his next step. He put on a serious face and turned to address Morgana, once again blissfully unconscious of the series of catastrophes he would be leading to by his smartly thought out 'half-truth'.

"Gaius was right," Arthur began in an odd sort of voice. "What I was diagnosed with weeks ago, it wasn't a normal kind of sickness. It wasn't a common plague, and I didn't tell anyone else including yourself Morgana, because we all know how father would react to it if I did." He paused a moment for effect. "It was a magically induced fever."

Morgana's head started up to meet his gaze, shock reflected on her features. Arthur nodded solemnly, allowing his words to sink in.

"I don't know how it worked, and I don't know what caused it – but during that period of time, I saw... things, Morgana," Arthur said seriously. He looked at Morgana full in the face for the first time since he'd arrived in this world and found ignorance and innocence so familiar yet he'd almost forgotten. Something tugged painfully at the corner of his heart. "I saw things that have not, but will come to pass... I saw pictures and dreams of the future." He paused when Morgana stepped back, her eyes wide.

"The future I've seen is influencing me when I deal with the people now, because I already know what's going to happen," Arthur spoke in a sorrowful tone. "That's why _sometimes _I may tend to act a little strange – "- _such as now – _"and I'm sorry for that."

Still, Morgana said nothing.

"I know what you all will say, that it's just a hallucination or a feverish dream, and I won't try to correct you otherwise," Arthur continued in an understanding tone. He even allowed the loneliness to creep into his voice. "I know you all think I'm mad. But I know it's the truth even if I don't know how to explain it."

Arthur looked up almost sadly, preparing himself for Morgana's protests. To his surprise, he was met with none. In fact, all traces of anger had left Morgana's features, and she was looking with him with a gentle sort of expression. There were even tears sparkling in her light eyes. Now that was a surprise.

"No Arthur," she said softly. "I don't think any of that, not anymore. I don't think you're lying or you're mad. You're just -… _exactly_ like me."

Arthur nodded gently, before he stopped short, struck with momentary horror.

Wait.

_What? _

Arthur's eyes widened in comprehension.

_NO! No no no no!_

"I have those dreams too," Morgana said in a rush, "ever since I was young, and I've told people, I've told Gaius but they never believed me," she looked at Arthur in what would have been heartbreaking despair, if not for the fact that Arthur's brain was in full panic mode to compute other people's emotions at the moment. She looked at him, a smile breaking free on her face, immense relief trickling down her cheeks in the form of tears. "I would never in my life expect you to be the same way as I am!"

_Oh dear gods above! _Arthur wailed in his head.

Fighting back the numerous curses that sprang to his tongue desperately, he hurriedly tried to salvage the situation. "Maybe our cases are not _quite _the same Morgana," Arthur began, but Morgana was too overwhelmed to listen.

"I've always thought I was alone here in Camelot, nobody understood why I had those dreams or why the sleeping potions Gaius prescribed me didn't work," she said almost frantically. "L-Last night, I even dreamt that you were run through by a sword, right next to your heart!" She strode forwards and grasped Arthur's hand. The sheer relief in her smile and the fear that cleared instantly from her eyes nearly made Arthur crumble under his worsening guilt. "But you've dreamt of the future too, didn't you? You've seen what's going to happen. You know the warnings I tell you."

Arthur forced a rigid nod. "Yes," he said in what could be considered a mechanically excited voice.

"What did you see?" Morgana said, lowering her voice as her gaze swept past the empty corridor outside almost nervously. "Do you still have them? The dreams?"

"No – no, it - uh - all happened when I was still sick," Arthur replied, trying not to feel awkward. Could this day get any worse! He thought miserably.

"But what did you see Arthur?" Morgana persisted, "what made you behave so differently to others?"

"I can't tell you that!" Arthur said in a despairing sort of voice. Morgana's curiousity only piqued. "That's because - " Arthur fumbled around feebly, "An – ugly, evil – sorceress told me, – again in my dreams – that Camelot would be in grave danger if I ever spoke about the future to anyone else." Here Arthur made a mental note to apologize to the Lady of the Lake. "It may alter the course of future, which would be redundant," he added hurriedly.

For a moment Arthur thought she would protest at that, but then Morgana only sat beside him quietly and sniffed back her tears. "I'm sorry," she said after a pause, "I was just so – afraid, that I was the only one like that. Hearing that you've experienced the same thing, it just relieves me so much more than you can imagine."

Arthur could think of nothing else to say to that. This was becoming one of the most awful days in history.

"Yeah" Arthur agreed somewhat lamely. Morgana gave an audible sniff.

For need of something to do, to restore some semblance of normalcy to the atmosphere, Arthur got up and took a jar from the table. He poured Morgana a glass of water before helping himself. Morgana took it gratefully. Arthur let a small touch of relief comfort him; there, the hard part was now over.

"Do you think we've got magic in our blood?" Morgana said suddenly.

Arthur nearly spit the water he was drinking. As it was it went down the wrong pipe, tickling and burning his throat.

Arthur's eyes watered as he tried to contain the bout of hacking that was about to follow. "No!" he managed to rasp, before coughing slightly. He took another sip of water, hoping it would ease his throat.

Morgana looked at him half-curiously.

"We've all gotten it from the sorceress!" Arthur said in a strained voice. He rapidly made up a villain in his head spontaneously. "She's been sending you these dreams ever since when you were young! But naturally, since I was stronger, she couldn't get to me yet – not until she forcefully made me ill by using magic and sending me the whole barrage of dreams of the future when I was unconscious!"

Arthur had never intended for his story to morph into a common ground between him and Morgana; after all now she was thinking _he, Arthur Pendragon was a Seer! - _but maybe this would be able to deter her from practising magic. Maybe she would never realize she was born a High-Priestess.

It was rather optimistic thinking especially after the series of disasters he'd wrecked throughout the day, but still.

"But why would she want to do that?" she asked. "What sorceress?"

"It's obvious," Arthur said in a hoarse matter-of-fact tone. "She's trying to - overthrow Camelot! She thinks she'll be able to get through us to father, that's it!"

Morgana frowned over the heavily flawed logic. Arthur rapidly decided it was a bad idea for her to rethink his 'facts' when he was in the vicinity, as it would give her the opportunity to question him again. He wasn't sure if he could come up with enough lies to patch up the loopholes in this ridiculous theory. He got up decisively. His throat was still burning slightly from the mild choke on water, but he pushed it aside.

"I need to prepare for my plans tomorrow," he began by way of dismissal, "I'm going to choose a new manservant."

Morgana raised an eyebrow, but thank the heavens for small wonders - she too, rose. "A new manservant? What of Jacquers?" she asked.

Ah yes, his name was Jacquers, Arthur thought. He wisely didn't say it aloud. "He's terrified of us nobles; I figured I would be doing him a favour," he put his pre-made up excuse to full use. "I'll make sure he'll be getting a place in the palace kitchens or royal stables if he wants to," he added for good measure.

Morgana nodded distractedly and she turned to leave. Arthur was already preparing to curl into a ball and throw a tantrum in the corner when she stopped abruptly by the doorway.

"I'm so glad you told me what you did Arthur," Morgana said softly. "You have no idea how much it means to me."

Arthur smiled forcefully again. "Yeah."

"Can I see you sometimes, to talk about it?" Here she grew hesitant, and Morgana's voice became small. "Nobody else seems to understand."

Arthur continued to smile in a way that made his jaws ache in protest. "Of course."

This time Morgana nodded, giving him a genuine smile that reached her eyes. "Thank you Arthur."

It was by sheer determination that Arthur held the expression intact until she left.

Then he closed the door with a little more force then necessary, and sank down on the floor in despair.

**A/N: Yeah, fixing the past just isn't Arthur's thing :P And I still haven't gotten to the part I wanted to write! What's wrong with me? Okay, it's really definitely coming up next, I promise!**

**Truthfully the last bit just popped into my mind while I was continuing the 'not-a-plague' scene. And now Morgana thinks Arthur's a Seer too :P What'd you think? Tell telll! XD **


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